


The moments he remembers

by OhWowAltMal



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 07:46:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4427165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhWowAltMal/pseuds/OhWowAltMal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Memories from all the things that occurred since Altair and Malik met. A birthday present for Dalia-Morgan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The moments he remembers

Malik liked to think that their meeting was a thing of fate, a thing of destiny, something determined to happen by a higher power.

In truth, it was more the result of a wrong math equation and Malik’s pride.

He was so sure his answer was correct, so adamant the teacher was wrong, too proud to admit defeat the spitting match Malik had with the teacher became a legend told many a year after their graduation. It had ended with Malik given detention and a headache-the latter more because, as it turned out, he was correct in his answer. The detention was already given, however, and when he arrived to class C2 his headache was pounding harder than ever before.

It was when he stepped into the room that he knew.

Altair had sat in the far back corner, the new kid, fresh blood for the seniors and teachers alike. A loose white hoodie -Malik remembered the torn pocket, the way his pen had teetered on the edge of the fabric-dark jeans and facial expression. Staring out the window. And it was when Malik entered the room and saw him that he knew.

He knew something drastic would change.

He knew that was the moment the rug was torn from his feet and spend his world spinning beyond control.

Altair’s smile alone was worth the extra effort it took to walk past the jocks that sneered and the popular girls that sniggered. The notes that they exchanged-the notes Malik still kept in a little box on top of the nightstand-, the small laugh they shared after being caught by the teacher, the hand outstretched to help him up after a jock tripped him on the way out, all these little tidbits and moments were what first caused Malik to fall for Altair. All those moments and many more remembered in stunning clarity and still bringing the feelings he first felt back.

The first date in the little indie coffee shop behind the mall, first snowfall of December making the ground beneath their feet crunch and chilling the air. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and cigarette smoke, some undiscovered band playing in the background amidst the small talk of other first dates and hipsters, an apologetic glance from Altair. Chilled fingers wrapped gratefully around the cups of coffee. The tightening of his stomach and nervous laughter. Talking of the weather, sports, future study. The walk back home, the snow that had settled in Altair’s hair and turned his nose red still falling. Gloved hands aching to touch.

The first kiss a week before Christmas, his cold skin warmed soon by Altair’s own with cheeks red not just from the cold. Lips soft against his own, eager, frozen hands gripping his jacket as Altair presses him against the wall of the shed. First kiss behind the bike shed at the Christmas Ball. The breaking of the kiss that left him disorientated, jolted back to reality from some fantasy land consisting of nothing but the pressure of Altair’s lips and his hands ensnaring his waist. The small and sweet moment that lasted forever after the kiss, broken by Altair’s laugh cut short by Malik dragging him back down to kiss him again.

The first time of intimacy, hot and sweet, tangled sheets and laughter and long lazy kisses. New Years, first day of the New Year, the corks of champagne flying off outside while indoors it was clothes. Altair’s hand over his mouth to cut off the moaned profanity, footsteps of Malik’s mother passing outside the door, faint strains of a conversation about a book fading off and leaving them both trying not to snort in their laughter, their thrill at almost being caught. The soft and rhythmic stroking of Malik’s hair as they both drift in and out of sleep. Legs wrapped in bedsheets and around one another. Hands entwined and breath warm against naked skin.

Altair dragging him away from the birthday party, out into the hallway, the closet, attacking his mouth in a furious kiss before a protest from Malik could sound. Hands harsh, dirty, pawing at Malik’s clothes as he tries to stop the moan from rising in his throat and exiting his lips. His back pressed against the wall and his hands running through Altair’s thick hair. Small pants and mumbled curses in between the rare parting of their lips. The insane laughter of Kadar causing his heart to explode as the door is yanked open. The way he introduces him as his boyfriend.

_(Other, shorter, briefer memories-graduation day, first meeting Altair’s Grandmother, Altair falling out of a tree trying to get a ball for Kadar)_

The apartment together, a half wallpapered and broken windowed mess, but their mess. Altair’s arm wrapping around his shoulders to pull him in for a kiss and a smile. The stubbing of a toe on new furniture, coming home to the smell of food cooking and eighties music on the tv-Altair always was a sucker for that decade- the bed breaking a month in; this resulting in many a curse, a trip to the ER and a rather awkward explanation to the nurse of why Malik’s wound was in such a compromising place. A dinner party that filled the place with laugher and warmth and family, the night ending sweet and quiet with a blanket thrown over his shoulders as he dozes off on the couch. Choosing the wrong colour for the walls and having a hideous shade of green haunt their every move.

_(Of course, the bad memories were there as well, if possible remembered clearer, recalling anger and the gut twisting, leg weakening fear of losing him. A ruined book, a favourite of Malik’s, the shouting that ensued burned forever in his brain. “It’s just a book, Malik, just let it go! It was an accident!” The rage that turned his turned his vision red, blind and made his head hot. “It’s my favourite, its mine, and it’s your fault!” Altair sleeping on the couch. A cold and sharp silence the next morning, Malik still smouldering, Altair too cautious to touch. An apology. The fury evaporating when coming home to find the book replaced on the table. )_

A surprise night out, a fancy restaurant on the other side of town, the memory of Altair making his knees weak in the bowtie and jacket he borrowed from Desmond. The flitting of his eyes away from the table, a nervous tapping of his foot, the slight tremor in his voice. Dodging Malik’s concerned questions. Considering refusing to continue with the date until Altair tells him what’s wrong when there’s a hush through the room, he turns to see Altair on one knee. Flushed cheeks and loss of breath in his lungs, tears forming. A nod and a cheer from the room.

The pale blue house that sat on the corner, white picket fences, garden filled with flowers, picturesque. Airy, empty rooms soon filled with warmth and light and love, family visiting their new home every weekend. Painting the spare room baby blue. Paint getting on their clothes, soon bodies as the clothes were shed. Lazy, lingering kisses in the lounge. Sweet and short kisses tasting of icing in the kitchen. Furious and open mouthed kisses in the bedroom. The bed breaking again, sleeping together on the couch for a month.

More recent memories that lingered, not solidified yet, still sweet to savour. Meeting the adoption agency. Buying the crib and the toys, Altair convinced their son will love the purple dinosaur. (Malik still wasn’t sure whether the dinosaur was for the child or Altair himself). Laughter at hearing about the ‘situation’, Altair’s hand on the small of his back as they agree to take both. Darim toddling towards them on his little chubby legs, arms outstretched, peanut butter smeared on every inch of exposed skin. Altair lifting Sef in the air and blowing raspberries on his stomach, Sefs laughter, the first cry of ‘Dada!’ Watching the two play in the garden, falling into patches of flowers and fighting each other with wooden swords, Altair’s lips murmuring soft things into his neck with his hand stroking Malik’s hair. Sunlight streaming in through the open window to warm the couch where he and Darim slept.

Sef stumbled into view, shirtless, wide grin plastered on his face. “Da! I Tarzan! “The toddler babbled, followed his best gorilla growl. Malik grinned in response, putting his coffee cup down to lean slightly over the kitchen counter. “Are you now? And what does the mighty Tarzan require from his humble servant?”

“A good morning kiss would be nice.” Altair scooped a giggling Sef onto his shoulders, wincing slightly at the sudden tug of hair. He stole a quick kiss from Malik before Sef demanded his attention again. “Pa! Lounge!”  A shrug from Altair before he was pulled away, laughter following him to the lounge. Another sip of coffee.

He looked forward to making many more memories.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what this is.  
> Im sorry.


End file.
